


Tempest Rising

by SpriritoftheArctic



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate universe sort of?, Avengers End Game didn't happen, Avengers Infinity War didn't happen, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This While Listening to Hozier's Music, I haven't seen Spiderman: FFH, I'll update tags at some point, Just let the Avengers be happy, Lesbian Natasha Romanov, Minus Natasha Romanov, Multi, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Original Character has depression, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Peter Parker is NOT involved in the poly relationship, This is my breakdown and I get to choose the self-indulgence, also, not really but kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:34:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25007764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpriritoftheArctic/pseuds/SpriritoftheArctic
Summary: As the winter picks up in cold New England, Peter decides to head back home to the Avenger's Compound for winter break, dragging along with him Amira, a newfound friend that, despite friendly smiles and late nights nerding over things, still remains somewhat of an enigma. As they settle into the compound, preparing for a snowy season, Amira's past and present are fronted into the light, and as a new challenge arises in NYC, there is no time for any hiccups in the road, especially when a mysterious circus sets up camp, and rumors of disappearing children are tied to it...
Relationships: Avengers Team & Original Female Character(s), Bruce Banner/Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark/Thor/Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson/Original Female Character(s), Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Tony Stark & Avengers Team, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	1. The Intro

The wind howled, screeching at the world as thin tree branches clawed at the window, begging to creep inside. The night was loud with the fervor and rage of the wind picking up, rain splattering against the windows as they pelted against the solid concrete outside of the dorm room. Against the window, an unmistakable Peter Parker’s face was lit up by the blue screen beneath him, fingers typing away, as the lights had turned off. 

“Are we still on for tomorrow?” One text read, and three bubbles popped up before the reply.

“Yeah! There’s a small gaming store I found the other day that we could drop by and visit”

A smile lit his face up, and he shot back another message.

“Awesome! Can’t wait :) “

Then, no reply. No three bubbles illuminating his screen. Turning off his phone, he could picture her now- broad-shouldered, hair in a bun that showed off her high undercut, amber eyes wandering as she took in the sight of some new place.

Amira. 

A familiar name, one that he had grown to warm up to. The first friend he made at college, despite not being from his college, and his closest. MJ had gone to a college in Seattle, reputed for their journaling program, and Ned had gone to Virginia Tech, so MIT left him feeling alone for the first time in a while.   
It was summer, orientation had just finished, and he was exploring Boston by himself, soaking in the sun during that warm summer day. He had made his way far across the city, reaching the Boston Convention and Exhibition Center in the Seaport district when somebody else there caught his eyes.   
Honestly, he didn’t remember how or why they started talking, but they had bonded pretty quickly over a shared interest in all things nerdy- she had gone to the American Chemistry Society meeting there a few summers back, and he knew that any sort of ComicCon conventions later in the year would be held there, and they started to bond. They spent the rest of the day together, her a bit of a native in the region and him basically clueless, before they exchanged numbers. Since then, they had been chatting nearly every day, and spent their weekends helping each other study, even if they had completely different majors. 

Amira. 

He had felt like he had known her for a lifetime, not just for a few months. And as the December rain turned to sleet outside of his dorm room, he felt a smile creep up on his face. With winter break around the corner, he would be returning to the Avengers facilities, cozying up in New York, but this would be his first winter break where he was alone. Ned was staying at VT to work on some big project that he had planned, and MJ was taking the break to travel. Sure, some of his friends at MIT were nice, and he could ask them if they wanted to spend a weekend in NY with him, but this felt different. None of them knew who he was, who he was connected with, of his secret identity.   
Amira was the only one who sort of did- well, she knew he was Spidey after a particular event one September evening, but she had stayed silent on it, and while she probably assumed that he was connected with the Avengers, she never probed or made a fuss out of it.   
And Amira was a mystery anyways. She never really spoke about her family, and she was from somewhere in Massachusetts, but he felt bad for forgetting where exactly. Plus, she said that she was interested in just staying in Boston for the break, where she was free to drink an ungodly amount of tea, find a place to spend some afternoons ice skating, and just overall stay in and probably play too much Dungeons and Dragons.   
Peter thought about it, thought about her and their time spent together, and turned on his phone again. One new message from Tony Stark, and opening up revealed the million dollar question that had been on his mind: 

“Hey kiddo, you mentioned earlier today about maybe inviting a friend to stay at the compound over break with you. Have any ideas on who the lucky winner would be?”

He had been planning to return to New York for the break for weeks now, but he wanted to share it with somebody else. Not just so they made sure he didn’t work himself to death, but because he just wanted to, wanted to spend his time with a friend.   
And so he switched the conversation, and started typing something for Amira:

“Hey, you want to come over for the holidays? No pressure if you don’t, but since you had been mentioned staying cooped up here alone…”

And send. Not even a minute later, the familiar three bubbles popped up, and a reply came in. 

“Sure, as long as it isn’t a bother to you! Where would we be staying, exactly?”

“With my fam, in the Compound. Is that alright with you?”

“Fine by me, you need me to bring anything?”

“Just some of your famous macarons plz”

“Okay, I can do that. Thanks for the invite!”

And with that, he went back to his conversation with Tony’s, and typed in:

“Yeah, I’ve got a friend staying with us. Do you mind?”

“Nope. Send me her name, and she’ll be all set”

“Amira Beaulieu”

And with that he felt a giddy feeling rising in his chest, as he breathed a sigh of… relief, anticipation maybe? He couldn’t tell, probably a mix of things. But nonetheless he was excited for what was coming.


	2. First December Snow

The snow gently freckled my face, soft and tiny, melting away as it brushes against my cheeks. It’s then, in this slight moment of contentment, that the soft crunching of boots on the new snow catches my ears, and I notice a disheveled doe-eyed Peter make his way over to me, phone in one hand, bag slung over his shoulders, with a grin on. 

Facing him, my thin red jacket doesn’t do much to block out the slight gust of icy wind. He seems so happy. 

“Hey, you made it on time this time,” I say, and he rolls his eyes. 

“That was one time-”

“I know, I know. Come on, the store has its heater on.”

The small gaming store was tucked into the side of the brown building, narrow and decently cramped, piled high with video games on racks, and an odd assortment of boxed games as well, ranging from some Monopoly rip-off to Catan, to some older tabletop roleplaying games. Pretty standard stuff. 

“Ey, Mira, check this out!” He’s holding some board game in his hand, and when he flips it over to show me, it seems to be of the strategic kind, played like chess but with cards added in. 

As I slink further and further back into the store- I think I hear Peter talking to the guy at the desk about the price of it- I find a bookshelf with different limited edition wares, some figurines, and some books piled up. Pulling one out from the stack at random, it seems to be a fantastical story- about an archer assassin descended from lion gods whose arrows teleport her to a different time in history whenever they hit her intended target. Odd, certainly, but odd enough to be intriguing. 

“Find anything Mir?” I hear Peter call from the front, which despite being somewhat visible between the racks of comics, feels like it’s coming from miles away. 

“Yeah,” I shout back. Turning the dusty book over in my hand- it certainly doesn’t seem like it was written in this decade- I see the reduced price stickered. 10 bucks for it seems like quite a steal to embark on what seems like an acid-trip of a book, so I tuck it under my arm and continue browsing. 

Turning around, something else catches my eye on the metal rack- a limited edition Star Wars comic trilogy that cost a pretty penny, but yet is stuffed in the back. I need a gift for Peter anyways with Christmas coming up, and I’m sure he doesn’t have it, so I discreetly keep it behind my book.

A few minutes go by, then a few more, and more, and I’ve lost Peter. Then I hear him being excited over some rare collectible and then I lose him again. After about an hour of us deep-diving through the store, we make our purchases and leave, and pray that he didn’t see me pay when he was in the back, back turned, as I try to hide his gift. 

As we face the cold whiteness of snow that is the outside world again, we realize it’s been snowing heavily, and make a mad dash trying to find the closest cafe, because, “It’s important! First snow of December- come on, let’s get some warm drinks to celebrate!”

In which case I remind him that it had already snowed twice in November, but he doesn’t care. 

A small vegan cafe rounds the corner, and we enter in a dash. The place is mildly occupied, a few people at small oak tables, and two baristas at the counter, and we’ve seen to have broken the peacefulness of the bubble here, but only momentarily as their gazes quickly lift to watch us, and then revert back to their phones, moleskins, and nearly-empty cups. 

Our orders come quick once we pay for them- a Aztec hot chocolate for me, and a coffee for him, as we take a corner table by the wide windows. 

“Hey, so I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Peter says, slightly stumbling over his words.

“What’s up?”

“I know it was over text, but you’re okay with coming over for the break, right? It doesn’t have to be for the full break either, it can be whoever long you want or need it to be-”

“I’m sure, just as long as it doesn’t inconvenience you or um, anybody else,” I said.

“Oh no, you wouldn’t be, trust me!”

“Okay, but how many people would be there again? If it’s your family then I don’t want to take up too much space.”

“You’re fine, but there’s going to be a good amount of people. You know, kind of everyone within the....” He trails off, but I get what he means. Best to be vague in public.

“Yeah, yeah, and are they okay with this? That’s a lot of people right? Am I even allowed in then, like what if I accidentally hear them joking about some super high-profile case at dinner and now I’m a wanted man by the FBI? Or Shield?”

Peter chuckles at it and takes a sip, shaking his head, “No, no, nothing like that. When you had accepted, I think they ran a background check on you anyways. Definitely something that Tony would do. And they trust me, so they trust you by extension. They’ll make you feel welcomed, don’t worry.”

How they already ran a comprehensive background check on me I’m not sure, but they probably definitely have the tech for it anyways. 

“Okay, I trust you Peter.”

“And if you ever feel uncomfortable, you can always tell me if you don’t think you can tell them directly, or just leave. I won’t take it personally if it’s too much for you.”

I know that he would, I know that he will if I leave, but I’m not sure if I will want to. Or if I’ll want to go running at the first sight of superheroes- minus Peter, because, well. I’m his friend.

“All right, um, and when exactly would this be?”

“Maybe this weekend we can head up. But of course I know I’m springing this on really quickly-”

“I should be ready by then.”

He seems a bit surprised by that, but smiles warmly, “Oh, great! Yeah, cool, so uh… There’s just one big thing I need to tell you before you come. Well, multiple things actually, but this is the major thing-”

He’s talking at a million words a second, hands clamped around his mug where steady hot fumes are coming from his still piping hot coffee, while I have barely somewhat touched mine. It’s really good, but also ridiculously overpriced. 

“So,” he looks around at the tables a bit nervously, and I get what he’s hesitant about.

“Let’s just call them your family friends for now, we can just generalize them.”

“That helps, but I mean it’s a bit odd to explain. I trust you, but please, for the love of anything, just keep this on the downlow and between you and me?”

“Of course.”

“It’s just that, my family friends, well my family, they’re sort of mostly in a relationship together. Polyamorous. Not that it’s a big deal, but it’s not something they’re public about, and I don’t want it to scare you off if they all get a bit affectionate and cuddly, and thought that just springing it onto you once you arrived would be a douche move.”

I process it for a second, taking a sip of the hot chocolate, before nodding. “Yeah, I see why you want me to be certain then of coming up and trusting me. Which, by the way,” I take one of his hands in mine, “Thank you. For trusting me, I mean. I can’t really imagine how risky it might be for you, especially since I don’t really know the scope of things, so I really do appreciate it. Whatever you need me to be silent about, I will be, and even then I won’t tell.”

The comments make his shoulders drop, the tensity in them seeping out, and he breathes out a sigh of relief. 

“I-thank you-”

“No, thank you. I’ve got a place to go for the holidays, and I get to spend it with my best friend.” His foot lightly touches mine when I say it, and we share a smile. There’s an unspoken kind of mutual agreement in the air, and we both know the amount of trust we’re placing in each other, especially since we only met this summer. 

And even then, I’m a bit clueless. I know of the Avengers, know their basics, but don’t follow up on their stories, or the news that feels like it is always gossiping on them.

We continue to drink our pricey liquid warmth, letting the mugs heat our hands up, then take them off when they got to warm, only to them cup it again, until the warmth felt like mere embers beneath our palms and the cups were cold and the drinks were gone, just mere splatters along the linings of the cup walls. 

As we toss our stuff into the eco-friendly bins and leave, the snow having calmed down and the streets a soft white, we walk together, and I feel his nervous energy between us, and I’m a bit jittery too- I have zero idea on what to expect. And so does he. But it’s okay, because he trusts me, and that’s not easy on his part I’d assume. 

“I’ll text you later with more details, we’ll probably drive to New York in a few days,” he says, as we have to part ways at the T. I nod, and we exchange simple good-byes, plastic bags in our hands, our wallets a bit lighter, and head off in opposite directions- him back to his MIT dorm, and I back to my own campus dorm. 

I’m excited, definitely, but there’s an air of anxiousness surrounding the whole ordeal. What if I come off as too introverted, too shy? Or the opposite, they think of me as too loud, too open? Am I expected to be some STEM prodigy like he is, or is my odd major something that might amuse them? Am I too much, not enough- definitely not enough-

And the whole ride home my mind is racing, and even back at the dorm. But I trust Peter, and he trusts them, and while I can turn off if I wanted to, a part of me doesn’t. So I dig out an old dark green suitcase from the dorm- my other roommates have already left- and lay it open on my bed.

Better start packing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I write this at 11pm while listening to some Hozier and Strawberry Blond by Mitski? Yes. Should I probably be sleeping? Yeah. Do I automatically love anybody whose read this and the story? Absolutely.


	3. Anticipation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... It's been a hot sec (like maybe over a year now) since this has been updated, so a few things:  
> 1- Hey, so happy for you to be reading, whether newcomers or you've re-stumbled across this. Welcome/back!  
> 2- I don't have Disney Plus. I refuse to see Spiderman: Far From Home as the tags have indicated, mainly because I'm not sure I can deal with having a Tom Holland Spiderman movie with Tony dead. So needless to say, this is going way off of the canonical, up to date story line.   
> 3- I want to try and get back into writing fanfic, so I'll try and be just a little more consistent to the best that I can. Since college application season is over, I should have a bit more free time.   
> And as always, enjoy!

Stormy winds picked up, and as my eyes began to open, I could feel the wind pushing me forward, cold but not unbearable, as the tears that came from such harsh winds became like ice against my cheeks, blurring my vision.

A cliff’s edge. In the distance, and where the wind was pushing me towards. Rocky and grey, and far beneath me the pounding of the waves against the rocks was loud, haunting, the water black and cold, ready to drag me down to the deepest pits and keep me there.

One step. Then another. I let the wind guide me, tucked in my arms and tried to hold my footing against the pebbles that kicked up when I planted my feet down. 

The edge was closer, the screeching of the winds picked up, and my skin started to feel numb, my hair flying in my face as I try to spit out the strands that got caught on my lips, shoulders and legs tense, the cacophony of the waves loud, jeering at me, shouting at me to be pushed, to dive down, to jump, knowing that the waves were bitter cold and that the last breath to leave my lungs would be frigid, and frightening. 

I don’t want to though, not like this. This isn’t what I’m meant to do now- I’m being pushed, but I feel too early for this. Whatever I am meant to do or see here, I’m not ready. 

And as the blackness chills me, I wake up in a feverish sweat, clinging to the thin white blanket, my forehead damp, fingers tight white. 

My head hits the pillow beneath me as my fingers try to find my phone nearby, which reads 6:17 am. At least it’s not some ungodly hour of the night, and I can try to salvage my early morning slowly.

But I don’t feel like getting up, and opt instead for staying in bed, drifting in and out of a light slumber, letting visions cross my imagination, until when I open my eyes again. It’s nearly 10. 

After we had gone to the gaming store and for coffee, Peter and I had made arrangements- we’ll meet up two days from then, and he’d come pick me up around early afternoon. 

Today was the day, he said he’d swing by, no pun intended, and we’d be headed up to New York. He had texted me last night with some gentle reminders to not be too nervous, that it wasn’t too late to call out. 

Peter had become my family. I wasn’t close to my actual family, and I’m deathly loyal to the few that to the few I’m close to for that reason. Of course I wouldn’t bail. 

The dorm feels hollow without the few around me, busy as worker bees, fluttering around and in and out. Here, the winter draft passes through some of the windows, and the whole place feels cold and empty. 

The small, dark green suitcase lay by the foot of my bed, half-opened and mostly prepared. It was small, sure, but it was plenty nonetheless. 

Pajamas? Check. Outfits? Check. Winter stuff? Yep. The one textbook I couldn’t, ahem, “legally” find a PDF copy of? Yes. A few housewarming gifts? Packed and ready. 

I felt like a little kid the night before they were going on a field trip. That dizzying suspense of daze and wonder, taking a break and seeing someplace new. 

An hour dragged by slowly as I gathered my remaining toiletries and threw them in, actually putting an effort to look nice and prepared. Another, as I threw some spare materials in my worn backpack, taking things as I went. A third, when I ate the gourmet dish of the gods- instant ramen- and stared off into space for a while. And listened to some music. 

A familiar ringtone had me standing straight as I fished it out of my backpack. Peter. Of course. Yeah, it would be alright if we met up at 2. He’d pick me up a few streets away from my dorm, and everything was all set. 

Two more hours. Just a little bit more to weight, but what more was there to do? Even now, slumped in the common rooms, mindlessly browsing through my feed, I feel time move slow like wading through mud. Must be the anticipation. 

There’s quiet, and then the running of footsteps in the dorm. While it does feel like a ghost town, I forget that there was a small handful that did decide to stay. A face I quickly recognize, Mallory, ducks into the communal floor kitchen, a smile etched wide onto her face. 

She doesn’t see me, doesn’t notice me. There’s the quick pace of footsteps in the hall, and then they slow down. A game of chase of sorts. Mallory’s effortlessly pretty- shiny, sleek black hair, and fit. There’s always a glint of mischief in her green eyes, and she just always made you agree with her. She just had that sort of way with words I suppose. 

She turns around and seems caught off-guard by my presence, huddled up into a spare green armchair. 

“Amira! I, sorry, didn’t see you there,” she laughs, before throwing a quick glance over her shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, I was just getting ready to leave anyways.”

“Oh? Well I know you’re the last in your dorm left here for the break, right? Well Nikita and I are going out later if you want to tag along. Briar might be coming along too.”

“That’s really nice of you Mallory, but I’m actually leaving today. Last minute plans and what not,” I shrug. I swear for a fraction of a second I saw her shoulders drop. 

“Aw, well, maybe next time,” she hums. We both awkwardly stand still before I get up to leave. 

“Wait, Amira… Mr. Lovett will be posting our project grades soon. You’ll be checking our seminar group chat, right?”

“Yeah, I should. Not as frequent, sure, but I’m sure my phone will blow up when those grades come out.”

“Alright, cool,” she says, and with a final glance in my direction, she turns around and starts rummaging around through the cabinets. I try not to keep my gaze lingering, but soon I’m in the hall, and can see Nikita barreling through, calling for Mallory with a playful tone. 

I made my way up to my dorm, and finished packing my stuff. Or what little remained anyways. I made macarons yesterday, as Peter requested, in a few different batches. Macarons need 24 hours to sit anyway, and just a quick sniff made my mouth water. One batch was maple, one was chocolate, and one was strawberry. 

12:27. I was finished packing, eating, and was sitting in my only cute sweater- an emerald green cable knit design. It was warm, snug, stylish enough to feel like I was overdoing it, but not simple enough that I would feel underdressed. I mean, I’m sure I would feel underdressed anyways, but I had spent too long last night contemplating this. 

Minutes crawled by slowly, and Peter and I had been texting for a little while now. As he settled for hopefully coming at 2:30- 3:00 (Boston traffic is the bane of our existence- the fact that they made a city with zero straight, easy streets is quite the irritating, yet impressive, feat), I texted back a thumbs-up. 

I found other ways to occupy myself- mainly with overthinking. At some points I hear footsteps in the communal halls, and decide to take a walk around the dorm halls to stretch my legs before what I assume might be a three hour car ride. Finally, my phone pings as Peter texts me:

“Hey, just got picked up- be there in 5 min.” 

And with that I scramble to pick up my suitcase and backpack, making my way down the halls and fumbling out of the building, pushing my back against the door to open it. The air was cool, chilly but wasn’t too bad. The snow had been kicked off of the sidewalks, piling up to the sides in what little piles remained. 

My eyes darted from my phone to the street, where a few cars hurried past. Another passing moment, trying to keep myself from pacing, from moving around, until finally a hearty roar of an engine pierced my thoughts, and quickly turning down the street was a slick black car, as polished as morning dew caught on a leaf. 

It made a quick, abrupt stop in front of where I was standing, windows tinted so I couldn’t see who was inside. As it came to a stop and I took a tentative step forward, the passenger door swung open and a familiar figure stepped out to give me a hug. 

“Hey Peter,” I said as he pulled away, his hands on my forearms. 

“Amira! Oh, thank you for coming again! Here, I’ll take your stuff,” he said, shifting to reach for my light suitcase. I thanked him and followed him to the trunk of the car, where he popped it open and gently placed my suitcase next to what I assumed was his red one. I placed my backpack next to it, careful to make sure it would not get jostled around, and closed the trunk. 

“Alright, are we in the backseat?”

“Yep,” he replied, opening the door closest to the sidewalk, away from traffic. “Ladies first.”

“Thank you, “ I said with a little bow, getting a small chuckle out of him, as I slipped into the warm interior of the car. 

Black leather seats greeted me as I settled into the backseat, shutting the door close as Peter slipped in beside me. The interior was plush and sleek, all crisp lines and compartments, with comfy materials that made it all seem so incredibly lush. 

“Thank you for picking us up,” I chirp to whoever is behind the wheel. I haven’t been able to get a glimpse of them when I entered, but when buckling in the driver turns around. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” the man grumbles as I see him briefly touch the rearview mirror. He wears dark aviators, and I don’t recognize the brief glimpse of a face. 

“Amira, this is Happy. Happy, Amira,” Peter introduces us as the driver turns around and takes a look at me, as I smile and he just turns back to face the road. 

My shoulders are tense, back as straight as a rod, and I need to will myself to not look so incredibly nervous. I shouldn’t be, but I also am- I’m trying to act like this isn’t a big deal but we all know that it is. 

My engine roars to life, loud and clear until it settles down into the deep purring of the machine as Happy brings his hand to the manual transmission, and puts us into first, and then quickly second gear. 

And with that, we’re on our way. Three hours away from whatever New York may bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... It's been a hot sec (like maybe over a year now) since this has been updated, so a few things:  
> 1- Hey, so happy for you to be reading, whether newcomers or you've re-stumbled across this. Welcome/back!  
> 2- I don't have Disney Plus. I refuse to see Spiderman: Far From Home as the tags have indicated, mainly because I'm not sure I can deal with having a Tom Holland Spiderman movie with Tony dead. So needless to say, this is going way off of the canonical, up to date story line.   
> 3- I want to try and get back into writing fanfic, so I'll try and be just a little more consistent to the best that I can. Since college application season is over, I should have a bit more free time.   
> And as always, enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so it's been a while since I wrote much, so my skills may be a bit rusty... Since this is an intro/prologue of sorts, it's on the shorter side and is styled a bit differently than how the rest is going to go (aka, there was some info dumping here, but I felt like it was needed to establish some context up front). 
> 
> Also, my W key is kind of half-broken, so I apologize going forward if half of the words with the letter w are missing it- sometimes spellcheck and I don't catch 'em. 
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated and welcomed! Also, a bit late but Happy Pride! Bisous a vous tous!


End file.
